


A Fateful Encounter (John Wick/Reader)

by Bobbles



Category: John Wick (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Doctor - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, med student
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 02:03:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19053022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bobbles/pseuds/Bobbles
Summary: You find a blooded man on the street and help nurse him back to health





	1. Chapter 1

You led a fairly average life, working as a part-time barista in a bustling New York cafe to help pay the med school bills. Today was one of the rare days you got to get off of work early. You began your walk home and started thinking of all the things you wanted to do today. Your thoughts were interrupted by a soft whine at your feet, you stopped and glanced down. Your heart melted, a sweet grey pit bull nuzzled at your feet, you kneeled down and held your hand out to him before softly stroking him. "What are you doing out here little guy?" You said softly, the dog almost seemed to comprehend your question as he trotted back from where you came, pausing to see if you followed. 

You sighed, realizing none of the items on your mental to-do list would be checked this evening as you followed this dog. I mean, you couldn't just leave that lil cutie all alone! Nothing could've prepared you for what would come next, you gasped as you turned the corner into a dark, damp alleyway and saw a beaten and bloody man sprawled on the concrete. The pit bull whined again and gently licked at the man's face. 

You sprang into action, kneeling down beside the man. He was unconscious, his long dark hair was damp and clung to his face that was littered with small cuts and bruises. Even on deaths door he had a beautiful face. You moved down his body, applying pressure to the still bleeding wounds on his abdomen and shoulder. He was still breathing, although it was becoming more ragged as time went on. You thought for a moment, your apartment only a few blocks from where you were now, and foot traffic was light at the moment. Whether it be through pure willpower, or adrenaline, or a combination of both, you had managed to half-carry half-drag the much larger man to your apartment. Holding his muscular arms over your shoulders, you tried to ignore the looks from pedestrians as you heaved the man into the elevator and slammed the buttons as soon as the pup was clear of the doors. The dog sat and smiled up at you, tongue poking out a bit. "You're one loyal pup, aren't you?" You whispered, sighing as the elevator doors opened and you managed to get the man into your home and onto your bed. The pit bull following John's form and laying at his feet. 

You swiftly and carefully grabbed all of your supplies, a few first aid kits and some sutures for some clearly needed stitches. You began to strip him of his clothes, your eyes widened as you took off his suit jacket and bullet shells rained down onto your hardwood floor. You shrugged it off, more focused on making sure this handsome stranger didn't die in your bed. You set his various guns and knives on your bedside counter. You couldn't help but take a quick second to admire his physique as you striped him of his blood stained dress shirt and tie. He was incredibly strong, but his chest was littered with scars of different ages and bruises all over. You focused your attention on the gaping wound in his side, you gently cleaned around it with a wet cloth, and took a deep breath before applying a disinfectant, knowing it would be painful. You looked up at his face, it contorted in pain and his eyes flashed open for a moment, before closing them again. 

His eyes were brown, they were so warm and chocolatey, you wondered how someone with eyes so kind got himself into this predicament as you began to prep your needle. You took a moment to steady yourself as you began to stitch him up as gently and precisely as you could. He didn't react to the needle piercing his skin so you assume he must've faded out again. After you finished stitching up and cleaning up his major wounds you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You began to gently wipe some of the sweat and dirt from his face, your body leaning over his. After you were content with your treatment of him, you began rummaging through your closet to try to find some clothes that weren't covered in blood that would fit this tall man. You eventually found some sweatpants from an old ex and an oversized tee shirt. After that you started to run a bath, he was kind of filthy, and you could only do so much with a rag. Just as you got the temperature right you heard a shift on your bed and you whipped around. 

John came to, confused and a first on high alert until he felt the presence of his dog at his feet. He looked around, looking down at his now stitched up and torso and the room he was in. You had a desk with medical textbooks piled up, your laptop next to it. He looked down and saw he had stained your blue bedsheets with his blood, he let out a small sigh as he began to slowly lift his head. He heard water running, and soon saw you peek out from behind the bathroom door. Your cheeks were flushed, hands still had a bit of his blood on them around your nails. Your hair thrown into a low pony tail. How did someone so cute and small manage to get him here? John couldn't help but let the hint of a smile tug at his lips. His eyes met yours, "Thank you." He said simply.

His voice sent shudders down your spine, it was almost like a growl, so gravelly but yet so sweet. The flush on your face grew redder as you looked at him. You looked to the sleeping pit bull at his feet. "You should really be thanking your pup, he led me right to you." You replied, your voice still soft as you approached him. "I uh, ran you a bath, I thought it might help with the..." You trailed off as you stared at his various wounds, "aches and pains." You finished. Looking up into his brown eyes, you held out your hand, not sure if he wanted help to the bathroom. He seemed to be on the quieter side, as he wordlessly took your hand and with some effort got out of your bed and into the bathroom. 

After getting him situated, you helped him take off his shoes. "My name is (Y/N), by the way." You said as you swiftly unlaced his dress shoe. 

He began to undo his belt, "John." He said, tossing his belt to the ground. You blushed, unable to resist the dirty thoughts that crossed your mind as he threw his belt.

You smiled, "John." You repeated, finally being able to put a name to this gorgeous face. You stood up, "Well, I'll leave you to it, John. Just holler if you need anything." You said before leaving the bathroom to give him some privacy. 

You walked into your kitchen, the pit bull following behind you. You smiled and gave him a pat, rummaging around to find him something to eat, you set out a bowl of kibble and some water. You sighed softly, propping yourself up on your kitchen counter. John, that was his name. Even when he was beat to shit he was gorgeous, his beard perfectly framed his face, and his physique was nothing to scoff at. You tried to not think about it as you began to throw together a quick meal for you and John, but you couldn't help it. After all, it's not everyday something like this happens. Why me? You wondered, why did this dog pick you out of everyone on the street? You were glad it was you, you didn't know if everyone was as equipped to handle situations like this, most people would've just called the cops and been done with it. But you knew he wouldn't have lasted long out there, whoever hurt him was probably still out there. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of raining water and shuffling as John entered the room, his hair was combed down, dripping with sparse beads of water and his arms glistened slightly under the overhead lighting. He gingerly sat down at the table as you slid a plate and a glass of water towards him, along with a bottle of painkillers. 

John gratefully took them, downing a handful. He turned to face you, eyes staring calming into yours. "Why did you help me, (Y/N)?" He inquired, his voice smooth and steady. 

You fiddled with your fork, "Well, I... I couldn't just leave you there, you looked like you were on deaths door. I don't even know how you're already up and moving." You said, looking back up at him. "I want to help people, that's why I'm trying to finish med school." You continued, watching as John mulled over your words. 

He took a sip of water, "It's hard to find kind people in this world." He said, he seemed to stare past you as if he was remembering something... someone. You reminded him so much of Helen, you didn't hesitate to help him when he was in need. You were kind and gentle, and your smile was adorable. He looked down at his plate, he couldn't afford to get attached. He was back in the game, and there was no looking back now. 

He abruptly stood up, "John? What are you doing?" You inquired, getting up shortly after him and following him back into your bedroom.

John sighed, turning around to face you. "I can't stay here, (Y/N)." He dragged his hand thorough his freshly washed hair, "The people who did this to me won't stop until I'm dead or I kill them first. The longer I'm here the more you're in danger." He explained, beginning to gather his things. 

Your heart dropped, you didn't want him to leave. You felt the need to protect him, you didn't want to see him get hurt again. You continued to walk closely behind him, "John, you can't leave, you're still injured and I can-"

He cut you off, "I really do appreciate your help, but I have to go." He said, his voice a bit harsher this time.

You grabbed his arm and pulled him to face you, you laid a hand on his face, his beard hair tickling your skin. "John..." your voice was barely above a whisper, "Please be careful." You said, your stomach doing flips as you worried about him. 

He suddenly look your face in his hands, his rough hands gently stroking your skin, he pulled you into a kiss. Your eyes widened, then fluttered shut as you melted into John's strong arms, continuing to stroke his beard. He held one hand on your head and one on your hips. He pulled away, leaving both of you breathless. His eyes were dark and lustful, but he knew he couldn't stay. "I will." He said, before turning and leaving you.

You stood for a moment, catching your breath. Something told you you'd cross paths with this dark, mysterious man again. You couldn't wait for the next time he'd come through those bedroom doors, hopefully this time with less life threatening stab wounds.


	2. Search and Rescue (Chapter 2)

It had been about a week since you had seen John, but you couldn't get the image of him out of your head. His long dark hair and scruffy beard, and deep brown eyes. You sighed, reaching down to pet the unnamed pit bull that rested at your side. When John had left, he left the pup here, so you had started taking care of him as best you could while trying to keep up with school and work. You scratched behind his ears, smiling as the pit bull's tail wagged in response. You sighed as you returned to staring down your textbook, trying your best to study for an upcoming test. You rubbed your eyes, and realized you wouldn't be able to get much work done. You flipped off your light, and plopped into bed, drifting off to sleep. 

However, your slumber didn't last long as you heard an unfamiliar shuffling that woke you up. You tried to ignore it, but John's words echoed in your mind. The longer I'm here, the more you're in danger. You slowly and quietly got out of bed, and fumbled around your bedroom for something you could use as a weapon. You remembered a knife you kept in case of a situation like this, and grabbed that. Your bare feet padded along the hardwood floor as you exited your room. You paused, the shuffling no longer audible. The hairs on your neck stood on end as anxiety began to creep into your bones. 

You jumped as you heard barking, you dashed towards the living room, where the barking originated. You saw a dark figure looming over your couch, where the pup was crouching and growling. Your grip tightened on the knife in your hand, your eyes going wide as you tried to think of the best thing to do.  You weren't totally helpless, you took Aikido when you were young, for self defense reasons, and you didn't want this person, whoever they were, to hurt that lovely dog. You slowly approached, but before you could attack the figure, you heard a gruff voice from your left. 

"There she is! Get her!" 

You froze, fuck! I didn't check the laundry room! You thought, narrowly dodging the oncoming blow from this new figure. You grabbed the assailant's wrist, using their momentum to flip them around onto their back. You looked down, and realized she was a woman. You swore as the first figure charged you, you slashed at his abdomen, and he grunted in pain. Before you could react, the woman below you swept your legs out from under you, your knife clattering to the ground. You grunted in pain, and fumbled for your knife, throwing a sloppy kick at the woman that managed to connect with her jaw. Burning hot pain shot up your arm as the man stomped on your foot, you let out a scream, but still managed to grab your knife with your other hand. You slashed at the mans exposed ankle. You continued to fight these two in your cramped hallway, you did your best but you were slowly losing energy. You hadn't fought like this in a long time, and these guys were trained. You managed to stab the woman in the shoulder, but you were defenseless as the man came up behind you, clobbering you in the head with both fists. You felt shooting pain before your consciousness faded, your eyes fluttered shut and your hands went limp around the knife handle as your body slumped to the ground. 

~

After kissing you, John had told the pup to, "Stay." And left, trying his best not to look back. Santino D'Antonio and his thugs were relentless, but he wouldn't let anything stop him from righting his wrongs. His eyes burned with rage as he remembered the image of his home in flames. Red hot anger boiled up inside of him, every trace of his old life was slowly slipping through his fingers no matter how desperately he clutched onto it. First Helen, then his car and Daisy, then his home. His photos, the bed where she slept, her bracelet, her cards. He sighed, pushing the memories out of his mind as he focused on the task at hand. He spent the next few days trying to stay low, killing or evading anyone that had taken up the contract Santino put out for him, while trying to tail the man and his hired hands. 

Something that surprised him is that he couldn't stop thinking about you. Normally he was laser focused, hell bent on revenge, but he couldn't shake the image of you out of his head. Your brows furrowed together as you focused on making sure he was okay. There was so much kindness and care in your gaze, your hands so gentle as they brushed across his body. A pang of some unidentifiable emotion hit him, and he knew he had to see you again.

He wasn't expecting to arrive and see your door kicked in, the hinges loose and creaking as he slowly stepped into your home. The hair son the nape of his neck stood on end as he drew his weapon. His mind was racing, did something happen to you? He wasn't a very religious man, but he found himself praying you weren't dead. There were obvious signs on a struggle, blood smears and droplets made a trail from the living room into your hallway, where most of the damage was. Holes in the drywall, blood sprayed on the walls and floor, in the center of it, a small business card was propped up. 

John carefully picked it up and mulled over the contents. His blood boiling as he read over the cursive writing.

Mr. Wick, why don't you come down and chat with me? I have your lovely friend here as well.   
Much love, Santino 

He clutched the note in his fist, crumpling it. He perked up when he heard a soft whimpering from your bedroom, he went in and saw his dog laying on your bed. He let out a sigh of relief, at least he was alright. He wouldn't know what to do if his new dog and you both got hurt. He patted the pup gently on the head before standing up and glaring at the note.

He knew he shouldn't have gotten you into this mess, but it was his duty to get you out, safely. 

~

You came to with a bag over your head. You mentally cursed, this was the last time you'd help a handsome stranger. You felt that you were bound, rope dug into your soft flesh. Pain radiated throughout your body, your head was pounding. 

Suddenly, the bag was ripped off of your head, and you groaned, the bright lights hurting your sensitive eyes. You heard men in the distance growling in some language you wouldn't recognize. Your head was spinning as a man grabbed your chin and pulled your face forward. "My, my, you're quite the cutie. Sorry about your head." A smooth voice rang out as the cool metal of rings pressed into your skin. Your eyes began to focus, and you saw the face of an Italian man with curly hair and piercing eyes. 

You didn't reply, and opted to glare at him as you pulled your face out of his grasp. The mans smile faltered at your actions as he grabbed your face again, rougher this time. "Where is your friend? I have a debt to settle with him." He said, his tone much more threatening now. 

You continued to glare at him, "I don't know what you're talking about." You snarled, trying to pull your face from his grasp again, but he tightened his grip, and slapped you across the face with the other. The heavy rings stinging you. You did your best to stay calm and impassive, but you were scared shitless. Your face stung with the impact. 

The mysterious man laughed, "I think you do, miss." He shook his hand off, "My friends..." he gestured behind him, and the two people from your apartment stepped forward, "Might be able to jog your memory." The girl gave you a devious grin, and the man cracked his knuckles. "Unless you remember where he is." He stepped back. 

Your stomach dropped as you saw the girl pull out a blade, "I really don't know where he is right now, I haven't seen him since I first met him." You said, your cool demeanor dropping as you let fear seep into your voice. 

You closed your eyes as the woman approached you and started dragging her blade gently down your face and neck. You shivered, a tear rolling down your face. 

~ 

John rushed into the building, hair slicked back, gun drawn. His eyes were laser focused as he made his way through the halls, tactfully taking out guard after guard. He had been running from Santino and those out for his bounty, but yet here he was, running directly to him. He had to, you were innocent and kind, and he couldn't let you get killed because of him. 

He walked into an oddly quiet room, and whipped around and came face to face with Santino. He smiled, placing his hands in his pockets. "That woman, she's quite the fighter y'know." He began to pace around John, "Gave my acquaintances quite some cuts and bruises." 

John glared, continuing to keep his gun aimed directly at Santino's head. "I was thinking... we'd repay the favor." John looked up as he heard a feminine scream above him. Santino gave him a sickening smile. 

"What do you want?" He growled, glaring at Santino. 

Santino simply shrugged, "Well, you know I can't just let you get away with murdering my sister. Even if it had to be done." He chuckled, tapping his fingers together. "It's so sad really, she was quite beautiful." As if on cue, another scream resonated out, and John cursed as more armed guards poured out from behind Santino. 

He ducked blows, fought, stabbed and shot his way through the seemingly endless waves of men. He felt himself getting tired, he knew he had to get to you soon, before things got bad. He groaned as a man managed to pierce his shoulder with a blade, he threw the man over him onto his back and staggered out of the room, following the sound of the your moans and wails. 

He kicked open the door with his foot, seeing you. His heart sank, your lip was busted and bloodied, dark lines of crimson littered your neck and collarbone. You had tears streaming down your face, and a large bruise across your forehead. The woman that groped him in the museum a few days prior continued to drag her blade down your delicate skin. He let out a guttural scream, throwing his gun down as he was out of ammunition, and tackling her to the ground, disarming her. John sprang up, adrenaline pumping through his veins at the sight of you being tortured. He turned around and clocked the man straight in the jaw before turning to you, quickly freeing you from your bonds and touching you. "I'm so sorry, (Y/N)." He whispered hastily, turning back around to make sure the two were still sufficiently stunned before lifting you into his arms and hurrying out the building. He kept muttering apologies over and over again as he maneuvered his way out of Santino's base, keeping you safe. 

~

You had lost a lot of blood, and you were floating in and out of consciousness. You felt warm comforting hands caress your face as you saw John's face. You wondered if it was real or something your subconscious had presented to you. 

His deep voice cut through, "I'm so sorry, (Y/N)." He whispered as he pulled you into his strong arms. You melted into his grasp, hearing his voice rumbling from his chest but what he was saying was inaudible to you. 

You meekly grasped his black blazer as you saw your blood slowly weeping into his dress shirt, you felt your consciousnesses slipping from you yet again, seeing the crimson steps of the Continental in front of you before everything went black and you slumped into John's arms.

You came to, John's strong arms still laced around your waist as you both laid in bed. You gently touched your neck, your wounds had been bandaged. You pivoted slightly, turning so you could face John. He was still sleeping, you sighed as you noticed the fresh bruises absolutely covering his body. You couldn't believe he actually came and helped you, you thought you'd never see him again. You gently ran you fingers through his hair as you felt emotion welling up in you and a few tears began flowing down your face. 

John opened his eyes, cupping your face in his large hand. "You came back for me." You whispered, nestling your face into his chest. 

John cradled you in his arms, gently rubbing your back with his hand, "I'll always come back for you, (Y/N)." He laid a gentle kiss on your forehead. You held him tightly, never wanting to let go.


End file.
